


What Can Be Found (in a Game of Truth or Dare)

by etymolodrarry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, Drinking Games, Getting Together, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, OTPshipper98, Party Games, Truth or Dare, Veritaserum, draco has a drunken tendency to say gay shit about potter, harry potter fantasizes about guys sometimes, inspired by OTPshipper98, memefic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29719278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etymolodrarry/pseuds/etymolodrarry
Summary: Draco was dared to give Harry a love bite. Under normal circumstances, Harry would refuse—except, these circumstances werefarfrom normal.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 167





	What Can Be Found (in a Game of Truth or Dare)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OTPshipper98](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTPshipper98/gifts).
  * Inspired by [What Can Be Found (in a Game of Truth or Dare)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21446716) by [OTPshipper98](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTPshipper98/pseuds/OTPshipper98). 



> If you haven't read any of OTPshipper98's [memefics](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743748), you're seriously missing out!

“Alright, Potter, truth or dare?”

Harry blinked at Pansy and hesitated, feeling very much like he’d just been asked whether he’d like to die via hanging or a gunshot wound to the head. Choosing _‘truth’_ was usually the safe option—except for the fact that his drink had been laced with a mild dose of Veritaserum. Therefore, choosing _‘dare’_ would be safer, but this was _Pansy Parkinson_ who would be choosing the dare. And based on her previous dares…there was no way Harry was going that route.

“Truth,” he said finally.

He regretted his choice immediately when she smirked wickedly, tapping her finger against her chin as she thought of a question. She cast her eyes around the group as if looking for inspiration, and Harry stiffened when she made eye contact with Draco Malfoy and gave him a sly grin.

“Have you ever fantasized about someone in this room...who _isn’t_ a girl?”

Harry started, his mind instantly going to the brief period of time when he’d been unable to keep the thought of Draco Malfoy out of his head. Well, _brief_ was a bit of an understatement.

In fact, as much as Harry _wanted_ it to be over, the sad truth was that the thought of Draco still very much occupied his mind. After spending the summer abroad, Draco came back to Hogwarts looking tanner and taller, in a way that Harry couldn’t stop thinking about. He didn’t look anything like the pointy, snivelling boy from before the war. No, he looked like a _man_. 

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, fighting off the Truth Serum as best as he could, but it forced the words up his throat like a hiccup. “Yes,” he said finally, feeling his cheeks redden.

 _“What,_ Harry?” Ron shoved his shoulder. “You didn’t tell me that!”

“Of _course_ I didn’t, Ron!” Harry retorted. “It’s not exactly something I _wanted_ to talk about.”

“Harry, it’s your turn to spin,” Hermione interrupted quietly, and Harry looked at her gratefully for the distraction.

The bottle once again landed on Pansy, and he gave her the first dare that came to mind in an effort to divert everyone’s attention from him. 

As she sang through an out-of-tune rendition of _Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_ Harry’s eyes wandered around the room, hoping to find everyone’s eyes focused on Pansy instead of him. Thankfully, it seemed that they’d already moved on—likely from the alcohol in everyone’s system. Harry sneaked a peek at Draco, who was staring at the ground, looking supremely startled. 

Draco looked up when Pansy finished off on a long note, laughing with the rest of the room when her voice cracked loudly. But then Pansy reached forward to spin the bottle, and the smile slid off Draco’s face when it landed on him. 

“Dare,” he said immediately. 

_Smart choice,_ Harry thought ruefully. _Wish I’d chosen dare._

He quickly changed his mind when Pansy grinned conspiringly and dared Draco to give Harry a love bite. 

“Wait,” Hermione said suddenly, and everyone turned to look at her. “Harry, are you _okay_ with this?” She asked sharply.

“Yes,” he answered immediately, and Harry swore to himself that he’d never take Veritaserum again. 

* * *

_Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck—_

Draco glared at Pansy, who clapped gleefully and gestured for him to go over to Harry. Grumbling, he stood up and swayed slightly as the blood rushed from his head. He carefully made his way across the room, trying desperately to look sober as he approached Harry. Harry _had_ been okay with it—maybe that was a good sign? 

Harry had been sitting on the arm of the couch, and he quickly stood as Draco neared him. Draco could’ve sworn he looked nervous—he could see Harry’s adam’s apple bob as he went for his throat. Draco’s mind went numb as he got closer. _I have to concentrate,_ he thought desperately, _I can’t look like I’m enjoying this._

Bracing his arm on the back of the couch, Draco leaned down to press his lips to his neck. He was _far_ too drunk for this—the last thing he needed was to embarrass himself further by falling over.

It was just a hickey, though, right? All he had to do was make a mark on his skin. Draco used his lips to make a seal and sucked on his neck. He was vaguely aware of a loud wolf-whistle echoing throughout the room, but all Draco could focus on was hearing Harry’s breath hitch as Draco’s teeth grazed his skin. He used his tongue to swipe over the spot, and— _bloody hell, was that a_ _moan?_

Draco pulled away abruptly, not sure what to make of the fact that Harry’s hands had migrated to Draco’s hair while he was kissing Harry’s neck.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy,” Harry rubbed at the sore spot of his neck, his face flushed. “Did you _have_ to be that aggressive?” 

“I’m _sorry,_ was I not delicate enough for Our Savior?” He snapped, and Harry opened his mouth to respond when he was interrupted by a loud voice.

“Oi, get a room!” Seamus cupped his hands around his mouth so his voice would carry. 

He was about to scoff and sit back down when Draco realized that Harry wasn’t protesting this idea at all. His eyes were fixed on him, and as Draco watched, Harry glanced down at his lips for a split second. “D’you want to take this outside?” He asked, voice low and husky.

Draco found it terribly unfair that Harry was able to appear so calm and collected while drunk, especially when Draco was nothing but a flustered, awkward mess. He swallowed and nodded numbly, and he was halfway to the door when Theo called out that Draco needed to spin the bottle first.

He huffed and marched back to the center of the circle. He bent down and, in his haste, spun the bottle _way_ too aggressively. Draco was left to stand there awkwardly as it gradually slowed down.

It landed on Parvati, who chose truth, and Draco scrambled for an easy question to ask. “Who do you fancy?”

“Pansy,” she blurted out immediately, unable to resist the Veritaserum in her system. She clapped her hand over her mouth and watched the room with wide eyes, but Draco didn’t get to see what came of her confession, for he had _business_ to attend to.

 _I’ll just tell him that I’m straight, thank you very much,_ Draco thought as he went out into the hallway. _And that I definitely do_ _not_ _want to snog him up against the wall._

“You _did_ go pretty hard, you know,” Harry said conversationally, prodding the mark on his neck again.

“I’m _sorry,_ I wasn’t aware you were so _sensitive,”_ Draco drawled, trying to regain some of his composure. He was having a hard time focusing, with the way Harry was leaning against the wall and nervously messing up his hair. “I’ll be sure to be _gentler_ next time, how about that?” He said sarcastically. 

Instead of getting angry, Harry merely looked a bit embarrassed. “I didn’t say I didn’t _like_ it,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Listen, I—” he looked like he wanted to say something, but he paused at the surprised look on Draco’s face.

Draco, who was still reeling from Harry’s admission that he _liked_ the hickey, shook his head. “No, what were you going to say?”

“I’m sorry,” Harry blurted. “About, um, sixth year. I’ve always wanted to say that but I just—I didn’t know _how,_ and I—” He took a deep breath. “I wish I had known the countercurse so I could’ve used it. Hell, I wish I had known what that spell was, so I wouldn’t have used it in the first place.”

Draco blinked, trying to sort through the dozens of thoughts that flashed through his mind. What Harry had done _was_ horrible—a _sorry_ didn’t undo that, and part of him wanted to tell Harry to get stuffed and storm off. Another part of him wanted to cry—he’d spent the last few months trying to come to terms with the fact that Harry _hated_ him, and now Harry was confessing that he’d wanted to _save_ him? If Draco hadn’t possessed such a high level of self-restraint, he would’ve kissed him right then.

“Um,” Draco laughed awkwardly, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. “Thank you,” his voice cracked loudly.

Harry, who had clearly been expecting more of a reaction, stared at him.

Draco stared back. Finally, he said, “I never blamed you,” he paused. “I deserved what you did to me.” As painful as it was, it was the truth. 

“No you _didn’t,”_ Harry said abruptly, looking affronted. “You didn’t have a choice!”

“I still _hurt_ people!” he snapped, stepping forward to get in Harry’s face. 

“I hurt people too!” Harry insisted, backing up a step as Draco crowded him against the wall. “We _all_ did!”

“Yes, but you’re the _hero!”_ Draco hissed, stabbing his finger into Harry’s chest with each word. “The _stupid, annoying, hot hero!”_ He immediately cursed his drunken tendency to say gay shit—specifically, his drunken tendency to say gay shit about _Potter_. _Fuck, why would I say that._

“You think I’m _hot?_ ” Harry looked surprised, almost _startled,_ and Draco wondered how the _hell_ Harry hadn’t realized how bloody attractive he was. 

“I never said that,” Draco said quickly.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you’d say,” Harry shook his head in amusement, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. “What a charmer you are.” 

Not knowing what to say, Draco stared at him. Harry was staring back with wide eyes, the few inches between them laden with tension. Harry’s eyes flicked down to Draco’s lips, and the dam broke.

Draco rushed forward, pinning Harry to the wall by his hips, and kissing him roughly.

It was perhaps the messiest kiss Draco had ever experienced, (okay, also the _only_ kiss he’d ever experienced) but he couldn't have cared less, because hey, they were drunk, and Harry's tongue felt _wonderful_ in his mouth. Draco’s hand moved from Harry’s hip to wrap around his waist and pull him closer. 

Harry curled his fingers in Draco’s hair, humming appreciatively when Draco bit his lower lip. He broke away from the kiss and gasped when Draco grinded against him, feeling his erection through his robes. _“Fuck,_ Draco,” he dipped his head to kiss Draco’s neck, only to moan when Draco’s hand slipped from his lower back to palm his arse. 

A sudden commotion filled the hallway with noise as all of the eighth years exited the Room of Requirement, ready to head back to their common room. Draco normally would have pulled way, but he was far too drunk and horny to be embarrassed—plus, Harry was latched onto his throat in a way that made him never want it to end. 

It _did_ end, unfortunately, when Theo clapped Draco on the shoulder as he passed. “C’mon, Draco, fun’s over,” he said, sounding like a parent who was collecting his son after a playdate. Thankfully, Harry largely ignored this, and he busied himself with Draco’s mouth once again.

“Bloody _hell,_ Harry,” Ron covered his eyes. “A little restraint, maybe? _Please?”_

Then, as if they weren’t _clearly_ busy, a Ravenclaw eighth year loudly asked if this meant they were together now. 

Harry pulled away from Draco for a moment, a dazed expression across his face. He gave Draco a questioning look—which Draco answered with a small smile—and nodded at the Ravenclaw. “Yeah,” he said simply, before reconnecting their lips.


End file.
